


Bedtime Stories From Long Ago

by exmachinarium



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmachinarium/pseuds/exmachinarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balin receives a rather unusual request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Stories From Long Ago

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short ficlet inspired by the 2012 film, but I guess it's safe to say it's book-relevant as well. Balin is forever my favourite dwarf and his friendship with Bilbo is one of the most heart-warming things about the story... That's really all there is to it.

A snap of a twig makes Balin instinctively grab for his weapon, but a quick glance around reveals the identity of the trespasser. Bilbo, bleary-eyed and wobbly on his feet, slowly trots towards the fire, almost tripping over Bombur on the way. The old dwarf smiles to himself, suddenly reminded of the good old days when upon his late visits to Thorin’s he was always greeted by two unruly mops of hair and two sleepy grins.

“Ground too rough for you, laddie?” he jokes good-naturedly, catching Bilbo’s attention.

“No… I mean, yes, yes it is. Amongst other things. But…” the hobbit gestures broadly towards the place where Oin and Gloin seem to be engaged in a fierce snoring contest (not that others are far behind).

“Not used to having company, eh.”

“Yes, you could say that,” Bilbo mutters with a distressed grimace.

Balin chuckles and motions for the hobbit to sit next to him on the tree trunk where the heat from their fireplace can actually do some good to one's chilled and weary bones. Bilbo accepts, the scowl on his face not fully gone, but not as pronounced as it was a while ago.

For a long while they sit in complete silence; Balin attentively observing the surrounding woods, Bilbo rubbing his sore ankles and staring at the fire.

“You know a lot of… Stories, right?” he asks all of a sudden. When Balin confirms with a nod, the hobbit continues, struggling with words in his half-awakened daze.

“I… Guessed you would. Like the one with Thorin and… The Pale Orc. Since I'm awake… Well, more or less awake that is, could you… Could you tell me another one? A story. But this time maybe…”

“Yes, laddie?”

“Maybe… A happier one? Because there are happy stories, out there. There must be.”

An almost desperate hope shines through the tiredness in Bilbo's eyes as he finally looks up at his dwarf companion. A happy story. Such a simple wish. Something to fight back the turmoil of their journey, the hardships that their not-quite-burglar has to struggle with in order to simply keep up with the road-hardened company he so carelessly decided to join – and probably regrets doing so more and more with each passing day.

One happy story.

It's been a while since Balin heard one. Even longer since he told one himself. It takes him a good while to actually remember a story that doesn't end in calamity and grief – but at the back of his head he does, indeed, find one. It's not a tale dwarflings would enjoy much these days – there's not enough gold won and dragons defeated – but it seems good enough for one small and frightened hobbit lost in a big, scary world. And so Balin grabs a hold of it and lets it unfold, slowly, slowly, just like he did way back when Fili and Kili refused to return to their beds without a proper bedtime story.

Halfway through he realizes Bilbo has fallen asleep, his tousled head resting on his chest, his whole form leaning against the old dwarf unconsciously. Balin shakes his head with a huff of fondness and returns to his solitary vigil by the fireplace. After all, a good burglar is a well-rested burglar – and where there’s little burglar to begin with, proper rest is worth its weight in gold.


End file.
